


Cruel

by apologeticshoulderblades



Category: Marvel (Comics), Wolverine and the X-Men (Comics), X-Men (Comicverse)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-25
Updated: 2015-01-25
Packaged: 2018-03-07 18:53:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,564
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3179426
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/apologeticshoulderblades/pseuds/apologeticshoulderblades
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Because making out in the custodial closet is always choice.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cruel

      _Eyes down, stare at your hands._  This was the usual protocol Evan took when Quentin was feeling especially argumentative and volatile. It worked a lot better when he was fourteen years old and 5'6", when doing that granted him freedom from the uncomfortable feeling that was too much eye contact from a pink-haired punk who was shouting obscenities and waving his arms out in front of the headmistress's door. 

     But he wasn't fourteen years old and 5'6", no. A few years and an overwhelmingly big over-the-summer growth spurt left him two heads taller, making the usual routine faulty. No, instead he got a good look at his face, his aggressive  hand movements pushing Evan up against the locker closest to the door. 

     "So you know what the fucker does? She gives me detention. Every day. For two goddamn weeks. You wanna know what I did, lips?" Without pausing for a response, he continued. 

     "I hadn't been to class in two weeks, so you wanna know what I fuckin' told her? I told her 'maybe if there was anything I needed to learn, I'd show up.' But there isn't! I'm a better telepath than Grey and she knows it! I'm better than anyone of you here." He drew a deep breath of desperation.

     It was times like these, where Quentin's steam let itself off, that Evan appreciated the most. The cessation of whatever disgusting and vile things he said, says, or will say was the moment where Evan's own feelings of buried abhorrence faded away like the end of a sentence. To him, in moments like these, Quentin was nearly ethereal, his roseate hair falling over the rim of his glasses, his scowl seeming more like a pout.

     = _So you didn't have anything to do with what happened to the bathrooms?=_

Quentin stopped talking then and raised an eyebrow. 

    =No _, that was me too. Didja like how I fixed up the place?=  
_

    Evan rolled his eyes. 

      _=No, I didn't, and I don't think Ms. Pryde will either. I'd probably take your punishment and double it if I were you, it'd give you a good idea of how screwed you are.=_

When they communicated to each other that way, there was something that Evan always tried so desperately to push to the back of his mind, lock up and discard for the moment.

    They weren't supposed to rifle through each others minds, or anyone else's, but it was difficult sometimes, especially when Quentin was the person who essentially shouted every thought that came to his mind. Sometimes, they'd find each other rifling through the heads of classmates during a boring lecture absentmindedly. Evan hadn't mastered closing the doors to his mind, but it didn't matter when the person he was "speaking" with was the most gifted telepath at the school, in the world, and probably in the universe for all he knew. It wouldn't matter, but when that's also the same boy he had a crush on since his freshman year, he could damn well try, and it was miraculous he hadn't opened the right door by then.

Quentin paused for a moment, a smirk growing on his face. 

      _=You're hiding something from me? I'm hurt. _=__

__=How do you know that? _=_  
_ _

 "You literally just told me that. You're thinking out loud, idiot." Quentin laughed then, albeit out of spite. "Oooh, I've got an idea. I'm feeling a little bit riot-y today, I- Shit! Shit shit shit." 

     He grabbed the other boy and jammed them both into the supply closet across the hall. 

     "What is i-" 

      _ _ _=__ Sssh. Shut. It's Kitty.=_

     Kitty stepped out of her office a moment later, spotting Dr. McCoy on the way.

    "Hey, Hank! Can I talk to you for a moment?" 

    "Of course, my dear. I've got all the time in the world!"

     _ _=Jesus. Evan, we're gonna be in here for a few hours at the least thanks to this blue, long-winded asshole. _=___

___=Um, could you tell me why we're in here?= _  
____

____I _ _ _ _can't let her see me right now. I'd like to escape my sentence for as long as possible. Out of sight, out of mind.= _ _ _ _  
____________

    = _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _Alright, fine. But if we're in here for too much longer I'm going. Why did you pull me in here in the first place?=________

    = _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _I didn't think about it too much. Hey, wanna play a game while we're waiting for freedom?=________ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _  
________

Evan thought to himself for a moment, and responded reluctantly.

     = _Sure. What's the game?= _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _  
_________

Quentin smirked.

     = _Chicken.= _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _  
_________

_=Wait, what? Isn't that where people do that thing where they crash cars into each other?=_

      Evan's hand wandered to the doorknob.

     = _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _Not always, you idiot. Look, here's the thing, we've got no cars to crash, so what we can do here instead is just project some nasty stuff into each other's heads until one of us breaks. I'm talking blood and guts and gore here.= _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _  
________________

He made a face of absolute disgust at pink-haired punk and turned the doorknob, the other boy's hand grabbing it in dissent.

    = _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _Nope! Okay, fine. What wouldja rather we do, lean in close like we're gonna kiss or something stupid like that?=________ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _  
________

Evan pulled his hand away from the pink-haired punk and let it drop to his side, pursing his obsidian-colored lips.

    = _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _That sounds like a better idea that what you just described, honestly.= _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _  
________________

 ________= _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _Okay, fine, but if this goes anywhere, this is A; your idea and not mine and B; there's this other little game I like to play called "Too Hot". If it gets anywhere, let's try it.=________________ Quentin winked.

So they began to creep towards each other, painfully slow. Quentin felt seconds tick away like hours, the anxiety of the end result hidden calmly by a cool facade. _It's only a kiss, only a kiss, only a kiss._ He'd known the minute they'd stepped into the closet what he wanted to do, and damn it, he was going to do it, but _goddamn it,_ he wasn't about to admit he had a shred of a crush on taller boy that stood before him, whose pale face was looking like a more muted cerulean in that moment. That too, was a well-kept secret of his. It was an admiration that showed itself in awful ways, where sweet thoughts were sour words and ideal actions were cruel.

      Evan closed his eyes then, thick black lashes resting against a soft, blue-tinted grey. Quentin's eyes, on the other hand, widened as he weighed his options, the pang of uncertainty finding itself strong and crushing his usual quick decisiveness. He regained his confidence and slid closer, his own eyes falling shut, anticipating when it'd finally happen. 

     Their lips met, soft and unsure. Evan's eyes opened, noticing the sprinkling of soft freckles across the other boy's face. To Evan, he seemed so empyrean in that moment, his cheeks a soft pink, expression genuine and sweet. The moment, however, was fleeting, as they drew in again, with the same thoughtful tact as when they kissed at first. Evan's shaky hands found themselves on either side of Quentin's face, pulling him in. 

     He reciprocated, arms resting around the other boy's waist, kissing him thoughtless, warm and rough, as Evan pushed him against the wall _hard,_ his back hitting the wall with a low thump, Evan's arms up against the wall, pinning him. Their teeth clacked, trading soft for hard and warm for hot, Quentin running his fingers through Evan's hair, giving it a tug, pulling loose Evan's tie.

    Evan requited, pulling him in by the front of his shirt as his slid his tongue in, a soft moan escaping the punk's lips.

Quentin pulled away for a moment, biting his lip, his face as pink as his hair. 

     "God, this is hot. Get rough with me E-"

     The door swung open then, revealing headmaster Logan. 

    "-van?" 

    Their heads turned and met the fate that was in front of them. 

    "Boys, what the hell are you doin' in here?" Logan growled, immediately grabbing Quentin, mostly out of routine.

    "Whoa! God, you ruin everything, you know that? Can't you see I was busy corrupting him?" Quentin pushed away from Logan, dusting himself off. 

    "I ain't gonna ask." Logan pinched the bridge of his nose. "Don't you two have class right now?" 

    "Um, well." Evan began, fixing his tie. "Yes, we do." 

    "Uh-oh, looks like you're about to get your first detention. Am I right, bub?" Quentin sneered.

    "You two come to my office to pick up your forms. Wednesday, next week. Evan, I trust you to get yourselves back to class, you hear?" 

    Evan nodded in response, as they both watched Logan walk back to his office. 

    "So, um, does that mean we get to do this next week sometime? Doop doesn't really, er... Stay awake during detention from what I've heard." 

    "Evan, I absolutely love the way you think, you know that? I totally thought you were just another mindless sheep in the herd, but you know what, this could be the first time in my life that I might've ever been wrong."

     "Sure..." He leaned in and gave him one last peck. "See you Wednesday?"

     "If I decide to show up, sure." Quentin shot him a wink. "Or we could just take this back to my place later, huh? Maybe play that other game I was talking about?"

     "Sure. We'll see." 

     "I'm taking that as a yes." 

 

 


End file.
